


Nine

by SpiciestLlama



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9163558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiciestLlama/pseuds/SpiciestLlama
Summary: At the loss of one, eight was but a lonely number.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The main story to [Afraid](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8690371) which I wrote a while ago~! As always, both can be read as stand alone (*^▽^)/★*☆♪

It was a travesty to remain in this bustling town under the watchful gazes of government officials and to whisk away the crown of his head for the crown of the adorned; the glory of the already fallen military soldier. If it were glorious to fall blindly in battle under the command of the king, perhaps he could make do in an empire of solitude; slave to his own selfish ambitions, just as the game society itself played time and time again. Yet, this empty being had found himself on a forsaken ship that was withdrawn into the waves of the ocean in search of a temporary means of escape. It was baffling to be surrounded by lively vixens who presented more so of a sinner than that of a saint and though he was charmed, he also was growing an undeniable fog in the clear cut sea of faces. It wasn’t too long ago that his father had sent him abroad to enhance his self-serving mind, but time hadn’t trickled forward for him at all. Time was in constant denial it seemed. Just as he was.

His lip was quivering and the pounding of his heart was imminent as he took a hasty drag of his cigarette, glimpsing into the eternal abyss of the sea. He hadn’t taken her with him. It would be foolish to and he was chuckling bitterly because that woman was indeed a fool. The woman who would be wearing this now rusted pendant and conspicuous gold chain. Wonders never ceased to amaze her and it was him who was in fact being led by those very same undermining wiles; her curious and conscious desire for salvation that he understood only far too well. It was remarkably suitable for the queen to move in such a manner. However, he was but a common man; a mere mortal who could only perform short of miracles despite his insatiable pride. He grimaced at the disheartening expression she would give him if she were to witness him in such a state, but he was accepting in all her gifts. Even her final one.

The young man averted his eyes to the older gentleman before him who was peering intently into the palm of his hands, watching as the jewelry was dangling in his grasp. He had a unfathomable air surrounding his embodiment that spoke of reticence, forewarning the lost soul to keep on his guard. Yet, he was intrigued nonetheless. Clutching the chain into a closed fist, he took notice that his hands were stumbling over themselves ever so slightly; the movements catching the attention of the new presence.

“The prime minister’s son, are you? The bastard son.”  

He froze in his tracks and returned the menacing gaze with one of subdued aggression; the words raspy and unhindered as they left the stranger’s lips without disarray. The other man pushed forward with a silent breath and quivered on his cane. He bit his lip in fear that perhaps the secret that his mother spent her life trying to conceal had resurfaced in the form of a karmic devil; the one that she inevitably sold herself to. Currency had a higher wager than kin as his father once told him, for jewels and riches could buy back a colony. To him, kin was as replaceable as the weight of the world on his shoulders. The words of a lying man who called himself the prime minister meant nothing after all.    

“How baffling it is that a stranger knows more about me than my own blood. Should I be thankful that blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb?”

The man pressed his cane against the backing of the boat and leaned into him as if in complete bewilderment. As if he’d been anticipating this moment for many solitary years in confinement.

“You lack covenant and have soiled your father’s name.”

The young man could only laugh at the mockery and ceased any traces of disdain as what had come to pass was the most human indication he’d experienced since he’d gone abroad, only easing his mind when the older man spoke to him. It became clear that he too would be signing a contract with the devil himself and a bid with a measly wager; his needless life.   

“Let me soil your given name to the grave then. It’s high time you stop bathing your fingertips in salt water. It’ll only become more filthy.”  

* * *

Heaving a sigh, the man was dangling the rusted jewelry as he halfheartedly adjusted his tie in another hand; his mind drifting off with circulating thoughts of past endeavours. He ought to throw the shackles away. It should hold no more meaning to him for it wasn’t his to keep, but a dead man’s whose name he forced away to the wiles of the grim fantasy he once claimed as his own. A fictitious tale he portrayed over two years ago; the recollection of a fool. He was a monster long before the Lieutenant Colonel had approached him and relocated him into this dreary sense of reasoning and yet, it appeared as though he was longing for the notions of the naive. However, that too was false. His path was one that withheld from any form of repentance. He was only fond of that of which was an all consuming filth; one that mirrored the image of the spy he created in unison.

There was a polite knock planted on the wooden door behind him as he glanced at it through his reflection, watching as it creaked open ever so gradually. Returning the comfortable façade of conceit to his face, he rustled the pendant into his pocket and turned to face the new figure behind him. Amari presented himself with a tilt of his head, fingers pressing at his fedora and a nonchalant grin gracing his lips as his eyes followed the unsteady fingertips. He had a gaze of concern that was masking the nonchalant glimmer that he made certain not to conceal. Just as he always did when he sensed an anxious gleam hesitating and faltering to his persistence.

“You’re leaving all the damsels with me tonight? That’s rather kind of you, Takumi.”

Takumi; the name of which that was bestowed upon him by the Lieutenant Colonel on that fateful excursion where he drenched his fingers in a bloodbath that lacked a sense of remorsefulness. It must’ve remained on his scent as the salt water that danced on his skin only served to enhance the audacious act and became evident to a man of grotesque endeavours. Unfortunately, shame was an expectation he knew not of.

“Aren’t I always? A kind of woman swaying frontman?”

Amari was leaning into the frame of the door and casually taking a drag of his cigarette with caution as he met eyes with the other man, seeking retribution of some sort for whisking away.

Takumi was one of the first to pass through the agency’s trials with ease and took it upon himself to take care of the younger spies that shortly followed after. What was truly fascinating was the softness of his expression amidst the boastful persona that seeped out every so often; an over protective and doting adoration that Amari suspected was linked to the dangling chain in his grasp. He was prideful and immensely cunning towards those he deemed as beneath him, but he appeared to falter out of necessity before the other students. Naturally, they couldn’t help but wonder if such a blatant fatality was a ploy he inevitably lost sight of. It was clear that he was precarious all on his own and yet, easily amicable; one whose talents that were seemingly respected and acknowledged by the Lieutenant Colonel all the more. The fellow spies hadn’t such animosity towards the man that they longed to bring him to his knees (even teasingly), but a rather subtle affection that they dared not speak of. It was unsightly to be redundant after all.

“Perhaps.” Amari began and paused at the sight of Takumi’s shivering palm that told more than he would ever let on. A sense of humanity that even Takumi himself was uncertain belonged to the person he once called himself. “Won’t you join us? You’ve been bothered lately.”

“A woman is always bothersome. You should never stay with one too long.” Takumi drawled, well aware that this very conversation was futile in itself. There was only one viable option.

“You know very well. Though it’s a shame you don’t have a choice when it comes to the eight of us.”

Swiveling a top hat in hand, Takumi donned a jacket over his shoulders and smirked at the familiar grin Amari gifted him in agreement. He found himself chuckling at the sentiment and playfully led Amari out the door with a gentle push, following behind him in an orderly fashion. Amari understood more than well enough what he hadn’t himself and he was nearly gracious, rather than conceited for the first time tonight as he managed to stray from the pitiful anxiety of his unwilling train of thought. As long as he could be Takumi, such endeavours were not ill intended. A beast such as himself would bite his own tongue in denial of such enamourment after all. Pretentiousness of that had no place in D-Agency. That was the unwritten rule they all knew of and broke in a seemingly contemptuous state of mind, time and time again.

“I suppose I don’t.” 

* * *

It was but another late night gamble where the men of D-Agency were gathered in the lonesome common room; another round of the Joker Game being played out in the centre and silent utters making a semblance of conversation amidst the smoke infused setting. Sakuma was seated before Fukumoto with his attention seemingly directed at the novel in hand; the same one Odagiri had lent him earlier, but truly he was corresponding with Fukumoto in hushed murmurs. Hatano was also placed at the same table, but dared not to speak a word and merely grasped at the drink in his hand with an imminent worry as he listened in to the conversation. Odagiri was playing a card game with the others and was rather distant; appearing odd in his demeanour's presentation that struck the concern from the fellow students as well. He shared vague notions every so often. Inevitably, one couldn't help but wonder just what it was that he was concealing when he brushed off all attempts of support. They naturally feared for the worse. Fukumoto's eyes followed the back of Odagiri's head as he placed the cleaned glass upwards on the tray, returning the bothered gaze to Amari who subtly met his line of sight. Gradually, the room began to liven up with sounds of laughter erupting; masking the dreary ambiance emitting from the corner where Takumi resided and took another huff from the burnt out cigarette. He was also watching over Odagiri and heaved a sigh before returning the cigarette to his mouth when they met eyes. He cared not of his aloof persona when Odagiri could be sending himself away to the front lines of war for all the foolish reasons he knew better to dismiss and yet, chose them regardless.

Miyoshi approached the far table steadily with a burning cigarette in hand and a furrowed brow at the strange gaze encircling Takumi’s face. He appeared to be focused, rather than relaxed as one would expect him to be at the successful completion of his graduation mission where he investigated the British Consul General. Unmistakably, the emotions residing across his lips were apparent as his mouth tensed and his stare was intent. Miyoshi turned back momentarily to follow the intriguing glimpse, knowing it would be directed at Odagiri. He found himself catching Kaminaga’s focus and looked to Jitsui’s hand of cards, signalling with a brush of his fringe before he was deftly ignored; just as he was when he was part of the game not too long before. Kaminaga too had been distant, but unlike in Odagiri's case, he was certain of the reasonings behind his quivering notions without the need for misinformed theories. Not that it eased his tensions any further. Pulling a seat out beside Takumi, he raised his brow with a subtle smirk when he was able to divert the older man's attention in greeting.

“Welcome back.” Miyoshi began before glancing again at the person drawing Takumi’s focus and grinned back at the man next to him knowingly. “Should I even ask about the menacing stare you've adorned?”

Takumi lightly scoffed at Miyoshi’s remark and took a quick sip of liquor, putting the glass down as he finished with hesitation in his eyes. It was strange for Miyoshi to retire from the game so early on in the night, but he had inkling as to why. Those two were rather obvious in their restless and defeated states.

Just as his most recent mission entailed, he took on the façade of Gamou Jirou and easily mimicked every notion that would come to pass the original; learning all of his quirks within the short duration of forty-eight hours. During the two weeks he lived as a worker in Tailor Terashima, he’d come to hear about detectives sent out by the British Consul General (as expected) to investigate the past of his guise when he was out playing chess. One of the shadows who mentioned this to him was Miyoshi, passing him by without a single glance. It was during that occurrence that he also noticed Kaminaga within the vicinity; a guilt driven expression that Takumi suspected was directed at Miyoshi. It was unlike his usual demeanour, but Kaminaga fled to continue on his way. Though a mere glimpse from the corner of his eye, he grew worrisome over the pair that volunteered themselves into this life of solitude; threatening to fall apart in a hasty motion if they weren’t tended to soon. Gamou Jirou, however, knew of no such tendencies aside from his work as a suit tailor and had to push on in his merry way.      

“Graham was interesting indeed. But you? Miyoshi...How like you to only receive compliments and never give.” Takumi retorted and smiled grimly at the younger man who was taking a drag of his cigarette, watching Kaminaga avert his gaze once again.

“I take high pride in every gift I receive. This one especially,” Miyoshi uttered conceitedly and stroked a thumb to his face with a pompous air. “but you should know well enough by now.”

Takumi held back the desire to roll his eyes at Miyoshi’s narcissistic notions that he’d grown more than used to, as he and Kaminaga were also one of the first to join the agency. The Lieutenant Colonel was wise and cunning just as one expected he would be in his teachings and yet, fearsome all the more. He was constantly deriving the liaison, Sakuma, of funds for every iteration of that of which was likewise to a soldier; gaining money in the process for the already poor agency. Takumi nearly felt pity upon the poor man, but found himself in agreement for the shortcomings of a soldier would only diverge into death and foolishness.

However, what was most concerning about Yuuki were his insatiable tendencies that he withdrew upon Kaminaga; night after night and whenever the urge grew within him. Takumi would often catch Miyoshi unable to fall back asleep and staring unwillingly at Kaminaga’s unslept in bed, shuddering in impatience and defeat at his own impotent state of being for the first time since he had become a spy.         

“How long has it been?” Takumi questioned in a hushed whisper. His voice was low and nearly afraid to make itself heard.

The tone and silent hitch in Takumi’s mutter nearly forced away the vexed expression that graced Miyoshi’s visage, knowing only far too well what he meant. Releasing an exasperated breath at Kaminaga who continued to ignore his gestures and observing how he read Tazaki’s signs without hesitation, he faltered and put out his cigarette at last. 

“...Don’t. I know.” Miyoshi mumbled softly as he looked downwards onto the wooden surface, reiterating the same combination of words he’d said to Takumi when he’d been caught awake in dismay for Kaminaga’s return. He suspected that what Takumi felt was in fact empathy for a more than familiar and grimacing reminder.  

Sensing that Miyoshi was drifting off into his own chain of unraveled thoughts, Takumi let out a hasty breath and awaited to meet Miyoshi’s eyes in the selfish urge to have him entertain his own muses. The heavy air in the room was also becoming suffocating for all of its inhabitants.

“Do you believe that there's a specified reason behind the names that Yuuki's chosen for us? The names we refer to each other as when we're not on a mission.”

Miyoshi glimpsed forward as Takumi then averted his concerned gaze and took a boresome drag of his cigarette. It was high time that Takumi settled his demons after all.  

“A meaningless name that easily blends in with all the others, I suppose. For you...Takumi is clearly derived from Kumiko.” Miyoshi answered intently, not ignoring the slightly widened eyes and parted lips before him. He’d known for a long time of what Takumi’s past entailed of, for his body language spoke more than he himself did. Not to mention how sensitive he became once intoxicated by alcohol, even more so at the utterance of her name. Scarcely, Miyoshi made certain to conceal that from the other spies out of respect but it was futile in a building of such sharp witted men. “Perhaps that demon has a soul after all.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to be flattered by your immense means of attaining unnecessary knowledge.”

“I would never flatter you.”

Takumi was smiling bitterly at the mention of his late younger sister’s name. That question already entailed of the answer he knew from the moment it was gifted to him. Miyoshi merely poured more whiskey into the empty glass at the expression Takumi drew and urged him to take a drink. He suspected that perhaps the news reports of her suicide had made it to the paper where Miyoshi was able to fit the pieces together from what Yuuki sometimes would share with the other students. He’d made the decision to take his sister’s life that night for what appeared to be for all the wrong reasons, but rightly so as well. In doing so, she’d be free from their father’s vile grasp and could reside within him to travel the world. Watching over Kaminaga and Miyoshi was a treacherous déjà vu of what he could never forget. Kumiko was ill after all and didn’t have the momentum to wait for her older brother’s impending return to salvation. He would only be capable of such a task as her final wish and he cherished the loving smile she graced him with as her hands took hold of the dagger, as haunting as it was. He grew frightened for he knew that she was freeing not herself from her father, but himself from the wretched chains of their bloodline.  

“I often called her Kumi. What was surprising was that the kanji to that pet name could be written with the meaning of 'nine seas’. Intriguing that Yuuki would suggest I live for the first family I’ve come to love and murder. As if it were fated that I meet this morbid life as a spy; as if he'd known all along...” Takumi continued as his mind was swept and consumed, reminiscing the past as it appeared more vivid than his present. It was then that he put out his cigarette and took the drink that was offered to him at last. The use of the word 'first' was rather enlightening for Miyoshi needed no explanation on just who the second entailed of. “My father sent me abroad to many places, but it's rather revolting that I’ve come to call this dreary building my home. Though, these eight seas are more than enough. Just as Kaminaga is more than enough for you.”

Miyoshi found himself chuckling unwillingly with a gleam in his eyes after faltering for a fleeting moment at the abrupt confession. Takumi’s kind-hearted tendencies were seeping out once again it seemed, for Miyoshi could easily read all of his notions like that of a novel. It was no surprise that Takumi doted on the fellow students for every gesture unraveled the boastful façade; one that was more endearing than he'd like to admit. How his concern for Odagiri's wavering judgement was beginning to collapse on him and his eyes were continuing to follow Odagiri immensely in astonishment of what he'd hidden away. The adoring banter with the youngest spies that they used much to their advantage, but he’d deny such accusations every time. Not to mention his gentle gaze that was watching over the stumbling thread that kept Kaminaga and Miyoshi together quiver, even though he knew better than to worry. Time was more forgiving than he’d like to admit. The most talented spy was more than likely the sweetest of them all.

Pulling out the once gold pendant, Takumi was eyeing the rust that easily formed as it was a seemingly well structured fake and knew one such as that was not deserving of his little sister. However, such fine details were likewise to the mere notions he'd hidden away from her and he was certain of that. Their family could easily adorn such fine quality riches and she begged for one that was made of a fine silver on the inside knowingly so. He hadn’t questioned why. A woman’s intuition was a frightening wonder to him, but he’d never admit to his sister’s awareness of his grotesque thirst for sadistic thrills; the exact same desire she withheld from him. What was now tarnished was more fascinating to the monsters within them after all.

“Are you insinuating that I keep this embarrassment of a treasure for you, so you don't get yourself killed out there?” Miyoshi fumbled with its chain as it lay on the surface of the table and continued at the slow nod from the older man; his voice shrouded with utter disdain in a lying murmur. The link to one's humanity wasn't always a distraction, but a blessing in this life of solitude. “Fine by me.”

Takumi merely scoffed in response to show the gracious air that his pride forbade him against. Miyoshi was the same way and they both knew that such words of empathy were only less than necessary.

“We won't always have to be bidding to his wishes. We’ll be useless in times of war...”

“I take it you won't be taking over the agency in his stead then? I can't imagine how upset Yuuki will be.” Miyoshi dangled the pendent in his grasp in slow wavers as he drawled on with a seemingly feigned contriteness, but there was faint sense of raw disturbance emitting once the words left his mouth. A chill ran down Takumi’s spine as Miyoshi let out a breath and returned to the natural smirk that adorned him well. “Actually I can.”

“Once the war has erupted and faded, I'll buy you a drink as the man you seemingly know so much about. Return the trinket to me then.”

It’d always been evident to Miyoshi that home was not in this lonesome building with a broken identity, but with Kaminaga. Just as Takumi’s home was now with the eight seas that he’d washed up on and would cherish through any means necessary; the ones that gave him meaning. Times of war no longer stirred him if once they had come to pass, he would be among family again. No matter how many years would shrivel by until they'd meet again. Miyoshi ceased the frivolous motion of the swaying keepsake that was dancing between his fingertips and found himself catching Kaminaga’s intent stare. Though this time, Kaminaga’s eyes dared not waver and even graced Miyoshi with that adoring smile of his from across the room; the same one that swept away every anxious notion and faltered to him again. Time would dare not waver against him. That insatiable pride of his was as determined as it’d always been and he wouldn’t allow for Takumi to not hold up his end of the bargain either. All eight of them would make certain of that.

“Assuming I have a semblance of concern for you at all? Hmm...should Fukumoto mix the drink, then by all means.”

He would definitely see Takumi to the end.

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

* * *

Just as a feline is supposedly entailed to nine lives; just as 'he' who graced the eight spies with the ninth presence, it was rather peculiar why the loss of one that didn’t exist held such a vast impact in the deafening room of silence. Felines truly only lived once after all, unlike every spy in this building who had not lived at all. The only ties they had were the ones embellished around their necks, for the pretentiousness of enamourment had no place in D-Agency. That was the unwritten rule they all knew of and broke in a seemingly contemptuous state of mind, time and time again. The tie in which that would bring them back together in a lifeless motion entailed of a single thing. For dying would not be so frightening when they hadn’t experienced life and its bitter formalities a second time.  

“Until then, Takumi.”

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh idk why I wrote this when I have such a massive backlog of unfinished fics (a nightmare tbh w h y) but I love love love love loveeeee Gamou-kun to the moon and back and I honestly believe that the reason IG did this to him was because his spy quality will outshine the others (((*≧艸≦)ﾌﾟﾌﾟｯLOLOLOLOLLOL jkjk kinda but seriously if you can, read his chapter because he is freaking astounding!!! He's also kinda sweet too lol and I think he'd love teasing Hatano and would so get along well with Miyo considering how proud he is (more conceited than Miyo for sure aha Miyo's just ...a narcissistic try hard that pretends to be mean but is actually a sweetie LOL ) I was so happy when I saw the end card of Gamou and Miyo TwT Plus those chibis when he's drunk are adorbs hngssss Amari would definitely still be the big brother type if Gamou were in D-Agency (I think Gamou may be older/same age) but Gamou would probably dote on the other spies in the midst of his boastfulness lol
> 
> Anyways, I didn't intend for there to be KamiMiyo but lol whoops there was and I just ended up linking it to Afraid since it made sense to ( ´;ﾟ;∀;ﾟ;) I'd rather Gamou be dead then treated the way he was in the anime ....Pretty peeved that I have to use AU for this since this could be canon in the novel bhbkjbkjbkbk！Σ(×_×;)! There haven't been KamiMiyo fics since last year LOLOLOL wanted to post it earlier but I'm so slow ahaaa do ppl even write Gamou-kun in a good light?? 
> 
> Ah also wanted to mention that there's some details from the novel! Like how KamiMiyo & Gamou were one of the first students and Yuuki definitely held Gamou in high regard since he gave him the Graham mission that only had 2 weeks to do (but then again since Gamou was an alias, it's also possible that he could be Kaminaga or Miyoshi and Gamou also decided that he could copy the real Gamou's antics in 2 days rather than 3 and he did so, so well that ppl had a hard time distinguishing them!). Also, Kaminaga says some weird stuff about Yuuki while under the serum in his mission and the other spies reported to Gamou during his mission (LOL cuteeee) and Yuuki totally bullied Sakuma with the money thing (I feel for you dude) ToT
> 
> I've been really busy this holiday sadly but I do wanna release the xmas and new year KamiMiyo smuts I have planned! (hopefully by mid-jan ughhh) I just might finish the other KamiMiyo smut I'm writing first LOLOLOL decisions~! I̶ ̶n̶e̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶e̶d̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶c̶e̶r̶t̶a̶i̶n̶ ̶f̶i̶c̶ ̶f̶i̶r̶s̶t̶ ̶s̶i̶n̶c̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶i̶z̶e̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶p̶o̶o̶r̶l̶y̶ ̶w̶r̶i̶t̶t̶e̶n̶ ̶a̶a̶a̶a̶h̶h̶ ̶p̶l̶e̶a̶s̶e̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶p̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶L̶O̶L̶ Anyways, do tell me your thoughts and love Gamou to the moon and back with me! Thank you so much for reading! ヽ(；▽；)ノ
> 
> Also cross-posted on my [tumblr](http://ahahahahaderp.tumblr.com/post/155289880038/nine) yassssss


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